I used to be the type of person who wouldn’t dare stand here
Afraid to speak, afraid to be heard, afraid to be seen
I told myself I had no right to impose, no right to influence, no right to insinuate
Weighted down by retention, put myself in detention, spiraled into dementia and lost in my own dimension
I denied my intention, I denied my reflection, I denied my expression
I denied my inflection, I denied our connection and I denied your attention
Attention
Connection
Inflection
Expression
Reflection
Intention
Shun, a condition or state of being
It turns a verb into a noun
It creates action from the inanimate
Life where there was death
Feeling where there was emptiness
Danger where before there was only safety
Ac-tion, act become action
A flowering of intention
So I’m at this party and I run into to someone I hadn’t seen since we were kids and I’ve had one drink too many
And I’ve got nothing to say to him, we weren’t friends
There’s no shared experiences, there’s no fond memories
And now we’re both just here, shaking each other’s hands with big phony alcohol induced smiles
And all I want to ask him is who are you? Why do I remember you at all? Where were you when I needed you?
But it’s too real, it’s too raw
And all I can think to say is the first thing that comes into my mind
You used to have more hair
Seeing the look on his face I realize I’ve spoken too hastily
And in a desperate effort to appease the gods of small talk I quickly blurt out
A lot more hair
Inhibition, Indecision, Improvisation, elaboration, aggravation, separation
And I know
Shun
A condition or state of being
An act of a very specific kind, a judgment
One answer to the eternal question: fight or flight?
It turns attention into intention
It brings space where before there was only time
Rejec-tion, shun become action
A flowering of attention
So I’m 13 and I’m with the girl next door who I was crazy about
And she asks me who I like
And I know what that means, I can recognize it for the innocent question that it’s not
And my hearts beating in my chest and my palms are sweaty
And all I want to tell her is that it’s you, it’s always been you
But I’m afraid, afraid she’ll see me, afraid she’ll hear me, afraid she’ll know me, afraid she’ll judge me
And I mutter, I don’t know
Infatuation, mystification, denunciation, alienation
Shun,
Shh
Silence, stasis, death
But I do know
Shun,
Conditions or states of being
They turn nouns into verbs, they turn states of being into still images
Ready to be categorized, indemnified and filed away
The path from realization to decision, transmission, transition
Regression, transgression, condemnation, and sweet salvation
So I’m at this open mike thing and I’m feeling that warm familiar flush, bewilderment, where am I?
The tremor in my voice, a trickle of sweat down my spine
How did I come to this place, when will this end, your eyes, your ears, your judgment
Or worse, your disdain, your disinterest, your inattention
It’s all been said before
And I’m asking myself:
Who are we to stand before each other sharing truths older than the dirt beneath our feet?
Who are we to judge our own words worthy, valuable?
Who are we to hope our words will be heard, hope that we will be seen
Who are we to hope that we can make a difference, be known, be loved?
Who are we to strive for recognition?
Who are we to share our burdens and confusions
Who are we to share our lies and our misperceptions?
But now I’m thinking, who am I not to?
Who am I not to step up?
To hide my intention?
To diminish your attention?
Who am I not to love? Who am I not to shun?
And I’m remembering the thousands of hands I’ve shook
The missteps that I took
The opportunities I forsook
All the rules in the playbook
And how I just couldn’t look
And I’m smiling my big empty smile and I’m asking:
What’s your occupation?
What’s your affiliation?
What’s your denomination?
But all I really want to know is:
What’s your situation?
What’s your orientation?
What’s your function?
Intention, what do you intend?
What is your intention and to what do you pay attention?
And why?
I used to think I knew, I used to act upon my assumption
But now I have no why and no answer
There is only intention and attention
We have placed ourselves in a world where the complexities that swirl around us are made finite, ordered, safe
Limiting ourselves to the mere act of shun, the origin of action, a dearth of action, the death of action
The mere act of speaking our words an act of shun
I’m beginning to see the truth behind the suffix, beyond the sound, beyond the chains of syntax and grammer
And I won’t be silent!
I exist!
See me!
Hear me!
Love me!
Shun me.